i've been on the verge of being an angel all my life,
       but it's never happened yet...

So often now i engage in conversations with pple who are close-minded either about culture, race, religion, politics, or even day to day habits... 
& while some of those things are meaningful to certain individuals (and they're eager to share that passion), we have no right to judge another OR disclude them from our lives
-- or even to distinct them/ attempt to change them.

i've come to find that every being has encountered too many experiences - of emotions, relationships, engagements of different kinds - for anyone to have the right to judge who/how an individual is at any point of his/her life...
unless you know and understand all their experiences and reasons for being where they are today.

so many pple are not wrong, weird, crazy, obnoxious, boring, childish, or so on...
but are just pple at a point in their lives who have come to face life a certain way.
They may not be living the best way, or are the best pple... but who are we to say that they aren't doing the best they can at this point?

this world needs more pple who can step out of their comfort zones and learn the reality of it all.

the irresistable forbidden fruit
draws
feeling of everything you've ever wanted
the fantasies
that's all there has ever been
fantasy of great becoming greater
fantasy of tasting a beauty
Reaching & almost tasting a perfection that u believe will fulfill u so completely, that u will desire no more.

Owning...
if u could taste all the fruits in this world, it would still not be enough.
u're an explorer of ur heart
of kisses & touch
but climbing a mountain is independent
and i've made a toy out of u
we've made toys out of the pyramid & mt. everest.

if my life could be art
i've painted the courses. i drew ur hands, ur eyes. i adored the indescribable colours & the red that i painted black.
everything is a miracle & they're in my hands
i seduce u from the canvas
and u turn to grey

once but again, what is death?
are we meant to ever truly understand it?
the same 'person' that laughed n frowned n ran on the grass n climbed the tree yesterday is now lying before me w/out a breath.
is he asleep? but i recognize his restful breathing.
i think staring into that familiar face long enough, after a long time of staring into this face that i love, i'll eventually recognize the unfamiliarity... the memories of the soul that i love will drift from this body...
so whom i love has parted.
what's the use of visions, of pictures.
maybe the tears stream down my face because i know this face is no longer the one i fell in love with; bcus i no longer recognize.
puzzled, and wishing for some truths, i break down and cry.
or those tears are from my rage... as i question again Why i had to recognize the reality of this world being unreality;
that instead of remembering my dear dear baby's laughters and photographed memories, i'm forced to squeeze that out of me once and for all with one single image that contradicts all my memories.
words spoken, eyes met...
where is the connection?
how do i go on? what am i to think? do i forget i ever saw that soul-less being? & continue on w/the memories held up with moments i still have captured?
or do i accept this apparent truth,
and these pictures...images... all twist into dust.
accept what? body burn, even if forgotten, are the stars all into dust? what promises do i keep? one by one, at least promise me i can survive by counting the stars... are they even really happy?
what? what what what... do my tears really fall...? what for? where is he? where are they?
don't tell me to realize or accept... you don't even know what u're talking abt...there is nothing but a labrynth full of question marks

Excuse my french

J'envie de passer le temps avec toi.
Tu me sais très bien
alors, naturellement, je suis confortable avec toi.
Mais,
en même temps, quand je suis avec toi, je me sens une douleur
j'envie de pleurer, et être fort en même temps.

Je tu regarde, et je toi deteste.
Toutes les choses étaient differentes.
il n'est pas les problems que s'été produits,
il est les mots tu parlés.
tu était irresponsable, non mûr
j'étais enfantin aussi...
Si j'aurais une plus chance, je pense rien aurait pas differente.
Si j'aurais une plus chance, je ferais le même chose.

Je ne suis pas fier, et je certainement ne suis pas contente.
j'il étais irresponsable, et tu m'était irresponsable.
je tu regarde, et je suis triste
je suis fâché.
Mais je tu n'au blâme pas.

Avec toutes mes expériences, je suis moi aujour d'hui.
et pour ça, je suis contente.